


Caged Birds

by eyeofthehawk



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Canon-Typical Violence, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-09-29 09:20:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17200829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyeofthehawk/pseuds/eyeofthehawk
Summary: 7 Days with the Iron Shepherds is bound to change a person no matter how strong they are.





	1. In Chains

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone. I’ve been wanting to write about Fjord, Jester, and Yasha’s time with the Iron Shepherds. That being said some parts are going to get very violent and a bit dark - I mean they were with the Iron Shepherds for 7 days total (based off of CritRoleStats) three of those days being at the stronghold of people wanting to break them mentally and physically to sell as slaves. I will be trying to remain as close to the episodes as possible and will only be fluffing up some parts here and there. Thanks to crtranscript on Tumblr for episode transcripts which saved me from continuously rewatching some episodes to get the dialogue

Handing Kiri off to the family in Hupperdook had been the most emotional thing that had happened to Yasha since arriving in the Dwendalian Empire. After saying goodbye to the young Kenku, the Mighty Nein slowly made their way to Shadycreek Run, or Shittycreek Run as Beau and Nott kept calling it in an attempt to get a smile from the emotionally drained Jester. Yasha was determined to help make Jester feel better but understood that the initial sting of leaving Kiri hadn’t washed over the blue Tiefling yet. Tomorrow, tomorrow she would try and ease the pain Jester was obviously feeling. That timeline was approaching faster than Yasha would have liked as the group of misfits stopped to set up camp. Darkness fell and Yasha slowly fell asleep.

 

“Yasha,” Nott’s voice coupled with a gentle shaking of the barbarian’s arm drew her from her restless sleep, “It’s time for your shift.”

 

“Thank you, Nott,” Yasha says grabbing her sheathed great-sword and placing it on her back. Standing, Yasha places a hand on the Goblin’s shoulder before wishing her a good night. She is at the wagon for a few minutes before Fjord joins her still wiping the sleep from his eyes. They stood in silence for the two hours before Fjord finally speaks up.

 

“I’m kind of proud of all this, you know,” the half-orc sway as he pushes himself off of the side of the wagon where he was leaning. 

 

“I am, too. I’m actually very surprised at the choices we’ve made. Especially the choices I’ve made,” Yasha says as she turns her gaze from the Fjord to looking out into the open field. Thinking back from the bloody days as Orphan Maker, running like a coward after Zuella was killed, her days as a bodyguard in the circus, to genuinely wanting to help people.

 

“Yeah. A lot of these folks have surprised me,” Fjord says with a glance back over to the sleeping members of the Nein.

“Some people are trying to sleep,” Jester grumbles half awake from near the fireside.

 

“Sorry, Jester,” Yasha and Fjord say at almost the same time. Each looking guilty and worried that they’ve been speaking loud enough to wake the whole group.

 

“But I’m awake now,” the blue tiefling says as she begins untangle herself from the sleeping roll. On surprising light feet, Jester joins Fjord and Yasha over by the wagon.

 

“Let’s take a walk,” Fjord gestures to open field. “Dreams’ve been weird. For all the visions, the darkness out there, it’s good to know that somehow maybe we’re all putting a little bit of light in there too,” Fjord says as they continue to walk from the group.

 

“That’s a very nice way to put it,” the aasimar finally speaks again now that they are out of ear shot from the remaining party members.

 

“Who knows? Maybe we’ll find ourselves a path somewhere along the coast in the long run.

Could show you some of my hometown. Maybe some of your, but maybe not quiet as well put together,” Fjord continues to ramble on turning towards Jester.

 

“Well, if we do go back, I could show you - if it is safe depending on what my mom says - the places where I grew up, the beautiful shorelines. Have you been to the Menagerie Coast before,” Jester asks turning her wide eyes to Yasha with excitement in her eyes.

 

“I’ve never been to the coast,” Yasha answers and Jester’s face breaks open with more excitement at the possibility of showing the barbarian the beautiful Menagerie Coast for the first time.

 

“Oh, it is so beautiful. It would be incredible ,” Jester spins in excitement.

 

“I’ve seen—” Yasha’s voice disappears. Instantly, no noise hits her ears - grasshoppers, breathing, just silence. Feeling unnerved, Yasha moves to grab Magician’s Judge but freeze - her body not listening to her brain’s command. She looks over to see Fjord also frozen in place but Jester breaks into a run heading in the direction of the group. The cleric’s movement halted as she run into the chest of a human who appeared out of the shadow - four others appearing around the frozen members of the Nein.

 

Two of the cloaked figures move to Fjord with chains and manacles in hand. Memories flare up in the back of Yasha’s mind and her muscles finally answer her as a cloaked halfling and human throw a gag around her head and move to start putting chains on the barbarian. Yasha yanks Magician’s Judge out of its sheath as she watches Fjord and Jester getting gagged and chained.

 

With a silent yell, Yasha swings downward at the human figure on her right. Magician’s Judge carving a bloody swath in his chest. He falls silently to his knees as Yasha moves to the halflingfigure on the left and swings her great-sword in an attempt to cleave him in half. The blade would have hit the halfling but the wounded human on the ground uses his hand axe to slice into Yasha’s calf. As the swing goes wide the halfling and human tackle the barbarian to the ground. A punch to her head dazes Yasha as manacles latch themselves on her wrist. Yasha swings her chained hands to bash the halfling in the face but the human grabs the chain and jerks her away from the halfling. The halfling grabs the hammer from his waist and a bruising hit to her kidneys sends Yasha to her knees. They wrestle her hands to her back and secure the manacles on her ankles. Yasha feels her shoulder protesting as they are jerked to bring her writs and ankles closer together.

 

Yasha’s voiceless, gagged cry towards the Stormlord falls on equally deaf ears and for the first time in many moons the barbarian is listless without guidance. As the aasimar and her friends are dragged to an uncertain fate, Yasha mind brings back memories of the first time she was chained up and helpless to help another.

 

Yasha is brought out of her distant memories with the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Her eyes see Jester recoiling and the bald slaver backhanding the cleric with a gauntleted hand. Her ears pick up the sound of a muffled cry from Jester as the slaver delivers a harsh two kicks in her ribs to prevent her from attempting to break her bonds. Yasha feels her rage building up and with a growl she is able to snap the chain linking her wrist and ankles together. As her wrist remain behind her back she charges the bald fucker attacking her friend in an attempt to tackle him. She barely sees him spring the glaive in his hand but she defiantly feels as the metal capped, dull end slams into her stomach leaving her breathless. As she struggles to breathe through her nose a brutal kick to her chest leaves her wheezing and falling to a heap on the ground. Pain flares up her wrists as her full muscled weight presses on her hands and she feels the fractured ribs pressing against her oxygen deprived lungs. 

 

The barbarian faintly hears Fjord and Jester struggling against their captors, their chains rattling, then the sickening sound of bodies slumping to the ground. She turns her head to see the captors standing over her now unconscious friends and tries to get up to a siting position. Her movements cease as the bald man stomps on her chest with a follow-up kick to the side of her head. Black spots could her vision and the the last thing she hears before unconsciousness takes her over, “Load ‘em up. Sooner we get back the sooner the fun starts.”

 

The bruised trio is loaded up on the carts while not too far away lies their friends sleeping blissfully unaware.


	2. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Memories resurface while Yasha, Fjord, and Jester are in the wagons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should go without saying but there is some violence in this chapter and a character death.

A light breathing hitting Yasha’s bare chest and the faint touching of a hand trailing her hip brought the woman out of her sleep. She turns to find the source of the hand and smiles as she sees her beautiful lover - ‘ _No, it’s wife now_ ,’ Yasha thinks to herself. Zuella was a gorgeous, dark-skinned Aasimar with piercing jade eyes framed by curly brown hair..

 

“I’m glad this healed so well,” Zuella says as she traces a scar just above Yasha’s hip.

 

“I am, too. After all you’re the one that put it there,” Yasha says with a laugh. The scar in question was from an arrow wound six months ago. Zuella accidentally shot Yasha while she was hunting and the archer felt honor bound to treat the injury - after she chased down the deer she was hunting. The two quickly became friends, then lovers, and as of last night wives after a ceremony by a close friend. They culminated the night with gentle (and not so gentle) lovemaking.

 

“You should’ve stayed out of my way,” Zuella whispers seductively as her hand trails lower on Yasha’s stomach before kissing a path from her chest to Yasha’s lips. Yasha deepens the kiss and the two break apart only to catch their breaths.

 

“You keep this up and we will never leave the bed. Besides, we need to go hunting or we won’t be eating,” Yasha says after finally catching her breath.

 

“Oh, I can think of plenty of things to eat,” the brunette whispers before kissing her wife. Yashagently flips their positions so she is on top. She grabs Zuella hands and hauls her to her feet, “Come, love, let’s go hunting. I’ll cook what we find. Granted you don’t shoot me this time.”

“You do know how to convince a woman,” Zuella starts looking for her clothes.

 

“It’s getting colder, love,” Yasha said as she finished putting on her clothes and gathering her long sword as well as a short bow and quiver she only used for hunting. She stops in her tracks as she feels a warm weight draped across her shoulders. She looks at the item around her shoulders and sees it is the shawl she gave Zuella from a pelt of a black wolf.

 

“Well, you should wear this to keep you warm,” Zuella whispers and moves to the door to grab her kNieves, short bow, and quiver, “Last one back with a deer has to clean and dress the meat.”

——————

“Damn it, Zuella,” Yasha grumbles after an hour and a half with a skinny deer as proof of the hunt. Zuella was exceptional with a bow and arrow and was light footed while Yasha would rather get up close and beat the shit out of things.She breathes a sigh of belief as her home with Zuella comes into view, “Love, I’m home! Zuella?”

 

“‘Love’ So I guess the report is true, Orphan Maker,” the harsh voice of Sky Spear filled Yasha’s ears. The leader of the tribe moved from around the house. The Aasimar was tall, taller than Yasha. Her scarred pale skin stood out against the black leather armor. The black cross guard of her great-sword was barely visible past her unruly blood red hair. 

 

Just past the strong form of the leader, Yasha could make out four of her tribesmen with rope trailing behind them. With a jerk on the rope, Yasha’s heart sinks as she looks at the bloodied face of her wife. 

 

“I’ll make a deal, Orphan Maker,” Sky Spear’s voice brought Yasha back, “If you can beat me I’ll let you and this one leave. Forever exiled from the tribe.” The four tribesmen force Zuella to her knees as Sky Spear moves closer to Yasha.

 

“What say you, Orphan Maker?”

 

With a yell Yasha draws her sword and charges at Sky Spear red clouding her vision. Her blade slices through the air intent on cutting into the flank of the leader but only hits air. Sky Spear grabs her dagger and plunges the blade into Yasha’s side as she dodges Yasha’s swing.

 

“That piece of trash’s life depends on you and this is all you have, Orphan Maker,” Sky Spear goads and wit’s a twist and pull the blade comes out of the black haired woman’s side blood arcing with it. Yasha clamps a hand on the gaping wound, blood seeping in between her fingers. She growls before bringing the sword to cut across the leader’s stomach. It misses as Sky Spear jumps back and Yasha brings her blade up in a defensive posture. The tribe leader grabs her great-sword off of her back and with a violent swing brings it down on Yasha’s defending blade. A loud ringing noise fills the air as the sword in Yasha’s hand shatters and the blade slices Yasha from her left shoulder diagonally to her right hip.

 

“Yasha,” Zuella roars through the gag around her mouth and fights against the ropes securing her in place. She watches in horror as Yasha falls to her knees looking in disbelief at her destroyed sword. Heavy bleeding flows down Yasha’s front as the wounds pump blood and Yasha finds herself struggling to catch her breath. Sky Spear secures her great-sword to her back and closes the distance between herself and Yasha.

 

“You know the rules of the tribe, Orphan Maker,” She says before grabbing her dagger stabbing Yasha in the gut for the second time. Yasha cries out at the dagger is twisted several times before being pulled out.“Now, do me a favor and stay conscious for this. Bring her over here and tie this one up,” Sky Spear accenting the demand with a harsh kick to Yasha’s wounded form.

 

Yasha’s blood thrums in her ears and the pain from her wounds amounts to nothing compared to seeing Zuella getting dragged within her line of sight. She barely feels the ropes being tightly tied around her and only looks towards her wife. 

 

“My, my, my, Orphan Maker, she is pretty. But you were promised to my son,” the leader says circling Zuella. She grabs the dark-skinned Aasimar’s chin forcing them to look each other in the eyes, “Now this pretty thing is going to have to see the consequences of your choices.”

 

“Please,” Yasha grounds out through gritted teeth, “don’t hurt her. I’m the one that broke the law.”

 

“We don’t beg, Orphan Maker. You’re going to watch. If you close your eyes I’ll make sure this lasts for several days,” the taller Aasimar says as she extends her hand to one of the others and an ornate dagger is placed in her hand. “Hold her up for me,” she says pacing around Zuella’s form as two of the tribesmen pull the dark skinned Aasimar to her feet.

 

Tears stream down Yasha’s face as she watches in horror as Sky Spear makes the first slice to Zuella’s face.Zuella’s muffled cries started afterthe fourth cut, a deep slice to her breast.The cries continued for the a half hour but the cuts continued for the for another hour. Yasha watched as the love of her life had been cut over a hundred times and it was impossible to tell what part of her body had not been cut into yet. 

 

“Orphan Maker, you should have known this was how it was going to end,” Sky Spear moves behind Zuella forcing her head up so Yasha can see her face. The leader throws the ceremonial dagger to Yasha’s feet and grabs the great-sword off her back resting it on the ground behind Zuella. Yasha watches with haunted eyes as the sword swings cleaving her wife’s head off. 

 

Yasha lets out a scream and her vision goes dark.

——————

Yasha jerks up halting as the pain from her abused body pulses through her. The rattling of chains reminding her what happened. With the light filtering into the wagon she can see Fjord and Jester looking at her with concern. The half-orc’s face has blood running down the side and bruising starting to discolor his face. The cleric’s lip is split, a result of being backhanded with a gauntlet, and Yasha can tell she has some injured ribs with how she is leaning to one side.

 

Testing her chains Yasha notes that their captors loosened the chain connecting their arms and legs. She struggles to a sitting position, fractured ribs protesting. Fjord and Jester begin moving towards her. Jester sits next to Yasha and Fjord places himself non the other side of Jester.

 

It took a while but the three other them figures out how to establish guard shifts - in hopes of trying to fight their captors when the time comes. The wagon keeps moving for several hours and all three are awake and alert when the wagon stops. Despite the stop their captors do not interfere with them. Smells of cooked food waifs into the covered wagon and each of their stomachs grumble. Yasha guesses a full day has passed since they were captured. Darkness covers the wagon and they fall back into their guard shifts.

 

Light from the morning sun shines into the wagon and sounds of their captors loading back up on the wagons wakes Yasha up. Within the hour the wagons are moving again. The trek continues and the sounds of the clomping of horse hooves and the wagon wheel creaking draws her into a trance. The trance is broken with the sound of wood hitting wood and horses braying. The wagon comes to a halt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should be a total of 6 chapters give or take. I have the gist of it drafted out and just need to put it all together. 
> 
> As always please provide any feedback.


	3. Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loss on the Glory Run Road

 

 

Yasha can hear the slavers cursing as the wagon comes to a halt followed by the sounds of them dismounting from the wagons. The sound of fighting fills the three captives with hope as they realize the slavers are under attack. Yasha only hopes that it is a rescue party and not a rival group of slavers or bandits.

 

“Boss, This is so weird,” one of the slavers call out in a slow and somewhat slurred speech.

 

“Keg! I don’t know what you’re trying here, but I think the line’s been drawn,” the voice of the head slaver is loud and almost echos inside the cages. “Hey! Move aside!”

 

‘ _Who the fuck is Keg_ ,’ Yasha’s thinks to herself. Not really caring as long as the person or group lets them out.

 

For a moment the only sound that can be heard is grunts of pain and Yasha can faintly hear familiar grunts. It takes her a moment to pin the grunts to the few people she knows. Molly and Beau. Based on the looks on Fjord’s and Jester’s faces they recognize the grunting as well. With hope bubbling in her chest Yasha begins raging and fights the manacles on her wrists and ankles. The metal bites into her skin but it only fuels her rage further.

 

A faint chill fills the air before the leader’s voice cuts through the silence, “Am I going to have to make a lesson here?”

 

Yasha can barely hear the crunching of bones and a dull thud of what Yasha can only guess is a body hitting the ground over the blood pounding in her ears.

 

“All right. I see what you’re doing. One for one,” the leader says before a loud thump can be heard.

 

Yasha’s rage subsides and her heart sinks upon hearing Molly’s pained grunt followed by the sound of a body hitting the floor. There is a brief silence before a familiar sound fills her ears - the wet sound of a blade piercing skin.

 

“An example it is.” the leader’s voice rings out.

 

“Respect,” he says and then the sickening sound of the blade being removed shatters Yasha’s resolve. 

 

“Is it time for another, or have you learned your lesson,” the slaver calls out.

 

“You should know: I have no respect for authority,” Beau’s voice sounds half broken.

 

“Then another life it is,” Yasha begins to rage again at the thought of yet another friend being hurt and the understanding that Molly was probably dead - again. The manacles around her hands only giving way a little.

 

“Stop! Stop! Make me the example. Stop. Just stop attacking them,” A panicked, unfamiliar voice begs.

“Hey, Lorenzo! This one’s for Molly and Yasha, because we failed on this before! I’m going to get it right this time,” Beau broken voice shouts before the smell of burning flesh floods the covered wagon.

 

“Run! RUN,” Yasha barely makes out Nott’s panicked voice crying out. The Aasimar begs that Beau will listen to their goblin friend. She doesn’t need more people to die because of her.

 

“Looks like we have an eye-for-an-eye scenario,” Lorenzo calls out, “You say you want to be the example?”

 

“Will you let them go,” The unfamiliar voice questions. Yasha can only assume that this person is the one called Keg. Her voice sounds defeated.

 

“Sure,” Lorenzo’s drawl says nonchalantly.

 

“We’re going to make an example f our old friend. Round up what you can. You walk with me, Keg,” The leader calls out before the wagons start moving. The last noise Yasha hears from her friends is the sound of heavy armor hitting the ground. With that, the Aasimar pleads with the Stormlord to help them - help her - cope with the death of Mollymauk. Yasha looks to Fjord and Jester. Their shoulders are shaking while tears streak down their faces. One thought continues in her mind and her age old wounds ache.

 

‘ _It happened again_ ’

 

The following hours in the wagon play games with their minds. Fjord recalling my heart-to-hearts with Molly in the comfort of their room. Jester replaying the fateful tarot card reading that brought them all together. For Yasha the memory is much older - one of her first memories following the darkness that followed Zuella’s death.

 

—————

 

Yasha doesn’t know how long she had been walking. The ache in her feet and the pangs of hunger begin make themselves known. Neither of these things caused her to stop but a field did. The green grass is similar to what is in Xhorhas although it is more pleasing to look at compared to the scarce grass that survived the marshy lands. The unfamiliar things caught her attention. The yellow things buzzing around the colorful plant entranced her. Only Zuella’s beauty could match these things.

 

“I see you’ve come across our land,” a rough voice brought her back to focus, “That will be 5 gold.”

 

Yasha turns to see a brute of a man walking up to her; his wrapped hands giving away that he uses his fists to do the talking. Just behind him she sees several large wagons packed to the brim and a colorful individual manning the reigns of a wagon.

 

“Fuck off,” she grumbles before turning back to the field. The yellow things nowhere in sight. Her ears pick up the man’s footsteps rushing towards her. Within a instant she draws Magician’s Judge from her back and swings stopping just shy of lobbing the man’s head off.

 

“Excuse my friend. He’s the strongman for our traveling circus. Obviously, we keep him around for his strong body and not a strong mind,” the purple individual walks up. His coat as equally colorful as the plants in the field.

 

“Tell your _strong_ man to back the fuck off or you’ll need to find yourself another one,” she grounds out still leaving the great-sword leveled at the man’s throat.

 

“Hey, Gustav! I think we found our muscle,” the purple figure shouts back to wagons. He extends an open hand to Yasha with a grin, “The name’s Molly and I have to say I’m excited to meet you.”

 

 

—————

 

Tapping on her leg brings her back from distant memories. Fjord’s serious visage clues her in on the plan he is hatching. The plan is solidified as Jester and Yasha nod. The rage in Fjord’s eyes tells them everything - attack. Yasha begins fighting her chains again. The already weakened manacles finally give. Blood coats her wrists from her struggling against them. Just as she moves to help Jester she looks to see the blue Tiefling just getting her own manacles off. Within the next half hour they are all free of their bonds and gags.

 

“Once we stop we have to fight these guys,” Fjord whispers, “For Molly if nothing else.”

 

“For Molly.” Yasha and Jester whisper back reaffirming their commitment to the plan.

 

Darkness just starts to fill the covered wagon as it slows to a halt. They situate themselves to pretend that they are still chained up in hopes of catching the slavers off guard. The cage opens with a groan and the human with the hand axe stands there. Yasha tackles the surprised human and the Aasimar groans as her battered ribs are jarred from the impact of hitting the ground.With a yell she begins hitting the human in the face with hands wrapped in the chains that once connected Yasha’s manacles.

 

Out of the corner of her eye she can see Fjord’s falchion in his hand and a giant lollipop slamming into the face of one of the slavers. One crossbow bolt buries itself in Yasha’s back as another grazes her arm but she only focuses on pummeling the slaver underneath her.She gets two more punches in until her world explodes in a sea of pain as a massive house of woman slams her war hammer into Yasha’s side. With a second hit of the war hammer she is thrown off of the human. Air struggles to enter her lungs as her ribs press against them.

 

“Show ‘em what it means to fight the Iron Shepards but don’t kill them,” Yasha barely picks up Lorenzo’s voice over the sound of her wheezing.

 

Yasha watches in horror as Fjord falls to his knees two daggers hilt deep in his back. The sickening sounds of bones snapping followed by Jester’s cry of pain drains her of any remaining hope. She looks towards the Tiefling and sees Jester’s arm hangs limply by her side as a half-elf swings the two mauls in his hands at her.

 

“Fucking bitch,” the human she attacked earlier grumbles as he straddles Yasha before punching her in the face until darkness fills her vision. She hears the sounds of the slavers viciously beating her friends while the slaver above her keeps attacking her.

 

“Take ‘em downstairs. We’ll have fun in the morning,” Lorenzo shouts and Yasha’s battered form embraces unconsciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate dialogue heavy chapters. Even more so when the characters involved can’t see the action and are reliant on sounds and smells. 
> 
> Also, compressed the movement of the wagons into one day from the last chapter - filling the chapter with movement based on sounds and smells would have driven me insane to write. 
> 
> There will be a Jester / Fjord centered chapter coming up. But I love our Aasimar barbarian too much to not focus on her. 
> 
> As always please provide any feedback.


	4. Brutality

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scratching the surface of Lorenzo’s depravity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is kind of rough. There is a decent bit of violence in this chapter, but the tags are there.

This first thing Yasha notices is that her ribs feel intact for the first time since they were captured. The pain of broken ribs was replaced a stiffness that always follows any healing spell or potion. The dull throbbing in her shoulder and the weight of the shackles around her wrists tells her that her arms are secured behind her back. She quickly notices that she is still gagged and her feet are still chained together. The chain that connected her ankles and wrists is gone so she has some range of movement. She feels a bit of rage realizing that her boots are gone, ‘ _Where the fuck are my boots_?’

 

She takes stock of her surroundings and notices that the cell that she is in is made of stone with a single wall of wrought iron bars and a door. The next things she sees is the green and blue figures of her friends. Yasha is relieved to see that Fjord’s stab wound and Jester’s broken arm look are healed. They are also gagged and have manacles around their ankles and wrists.

 

With a groan she moves from laying on her side to sitting up. The noise she makes obviously alerts Jester and Fjord as the start moving and look around. Their looks of bewilderment and confusion zero in on her before they are soothed at seeing Yasha in better shape then she was before unconsciousness took them. The cleric winces as she moves to a sitting position before moving to get closer to Yasha. A few moments later Fjord finds his way over to the two women.They sit huddled together melancholic thoughts flooding them as they realize they have already lost one friend and are unwilling to lose another.

 

Muffled screams reverberate around the cell and then nothing but silence. In what seems like forever the dull thud of a door closing and approaching doorsteps draws their attention to the front of the cell. Their eyes fall on two human males immediately in front of the cell door as well as the bald bastard standing just at the base of the stairs.

 

“Grab the blue one. We got two weeks to get ‘em ready for the market,” Lorenzo’s drawl is quickly drowned out by the clanking of the cell door. As the door swings open Yasha and Fjord move to block Jester from their captors. The slavers pour into the cell. Fjord’s chained legs sweep at the humans and successfully trips one of them. Seeing this Yasha charges, or charges as much as one can with chained legs, at the other. She drives her shoulder into his sternum and they fall into a pile on the ground.

 

The pale Aasimar headbutts him and with a resounding crack his nose breaks with a shower of blood. She scrambles to her feet and starts moving towards Lorenzo. The bald slaver simply raises his hand at the incoming barbarian. Yasha, Fjord, Jester, and the two slavers are all hit with a wave of cold. The barbarian can barely hear her friend’s cries of pain. The blast of cold causes Yasha to fall to her knees in pain just shy of Lorenzo.

 

A fist like a donkey’s kick slams into her temple followed by a punch to her jaw sends Yasha sprawling to the ground. With the pain pulsing through her body she doesn’t feel the tug on her scalp as Lorenzo pulls her to a kneeling position with a fist in her hair.

 

“You just don’t learn,” Lorenzo growls in Yasha’s face. “Guess I’ll start with you. What do you think,” his question is accented with him roughly tearing the gag out of her mouth.

 

Yasha glares at the slaver and responds to his question by sending a glob of spit and blood into the slaver’s eye. “Guess you don’t either, fucker,” Yasha sneers at the bald man while he wipes the blood off his face. A knee to her stomach sends the barbarian gasping for breath.

 

“Close that fucking cell. Looks like we have a volunteer,” Lorenzo shouts to the two slavers as he pulls Yasha to her feet with an iron grip on her throat. Jester and Fjord watch in shock as their friend is pulled out of their line of sight.

 

Yasha struggles against the vice like grip at her throat but stops as it tightens in response.

 

“You hit me and I’ll draw the blue one in here and you’ll watch as I break her,” Lorenzo says just before hit the manacles on her wrist are removed. The wind is knocked out of her again as the slaver slams her on the table. Within seconds her hands and feet are placed into shackles at the four corners of the table.

 

Lorenzo stalks over to Yasha’s prone form on the table resting the tip of his knife on her right shoulder. With a grin he presses the blade into her shoulder and the barbarian barely bites her lip in time to stop the cry from escaping her throat.

 

“Feel free to cry out,” the bald slaver says pulling the knife out of her shoulder until just the tip remained. Not waiting for her response he drags the blade slowly down her right arm. Yasha’s body tenses up as the blade travels down to her wrist before being removed. She feels the blood pooling under her right arm as Lorenzo holds his hand out to the other two slavers.

 

“Fuck you,” Yasha grounds out after she finally catches her breath.

 

“Fuck me indeed,” Lorenzo ways with a grin as he presses a white hot blade into bleeding shoulder. Yasha grunts as Lorenzo presses the flat of the blade harder against her shoulder and she can smell her burning flesh. The blade is removed andthe slaver moves away from her.

 

Lorenzo slowly makes his way to Yasha’s left side and then stabs her in her shoulder. His sadistic grin hovers over her face as he slowly pulls the blade out before dragging the blade from her shoulder to her wrist. The cauterization of her left shoulder is punctuated with her crying out through gritted teeth.

 

Her ragged breathing continues for several moments while the slaver steps away fumbling with equipment on a side table. The long shallow slices on her arms bleeding and the pool of blood slowly spreads to her back. With a predator like grin, Lorenzo makes his way to Yasha’s feet. The first cut into the sole of her foot causes her to bite her lip. Ten brutal moments later, Yasha can taste the blood from where she tore into her lip. Lorenzo spends the next several hours continuing Yasha’s torture. Yasha can feels the flayed skin of her feet, gaping wounds from hooks yanked from her skin, and shallow cuts littering her form.

 

“Get her up,” The slaver moves to the brazier and calls out to the guards lingering around the room. The pain from her battered feet is multiplied by the full weight of her body on the feet. “Hold her steady,” she faintly hears as the guards tighten their hold on her arms. Yasha cries out as a white hot brand is pressed in between her shoulder blades until darkness takes her.

 

————

Yasha wakes to the intense pain shooting through her shoulders and knees. The brazier in the center room illuminates the cell and Yasha can see the blood that has crusted on her arms. Judging by the familiar weight on her wrists she doesn’t have to look to know that she is chained to the wall with enough slack to remain on her knees.

 

A shadow looms over the entrance to the cell and within seconds the door is thrown open. The figure moves into the cell and Yasha notices a familiar looking great-sword sheathed on the back of the woman. Wordlessly the woman draws the great-sword approaching Yasha on her knees. With a roar the human swings the blade slicing deep into Yasha’s side. The next swing cuts a bloody swath from her shoulder to her hip. Another swing opens up a gash across her chest. The final swing cuts deep into her abdomen.

 

The Aasimar can only watch as HER sword cuts into her body. Blood decorates the floor in arcing splatters following the swing of the blade. Seeming bored the human sheathes her sword before closing the distance. With a grin the human barbarian delivers a solid punch to Yasha’s face nearly knocking her out. She follows up with two kicks to the kneeling barbarian.

 

Yasha embraces unconsciousness while the human continues assaulting her battered form.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone, thanks for the kudos and reviews. 
> 
> I apologize for the delay - work started again and I had several parts of this that I couldn’t seem to get right. 
> 
> Couldn’t help myself with using the “Fuck me indeed” line. It’s too perfect to not use. 
> 
> As always feedback is appreciated.


	5. Godless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jester begins to ask herself if the Traveler is really with her

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took a moment but finally figured out I that I was going to focus on Jester instead of Fjord. 
> 
> Just a heads up this chapter is going to be a bit longer than some of the others. I have a lot of ground I want to cover in this chapter. 
> 
> You’re the best.

“Jester, it’s time to get up,” the ethereal voice that has guided her throughout her life rings in her ears. Even before opening her eyes she feels the cold stone floor against her face and a dull throb pulsing through her recently healed broken arm. Her eyes fly open upon realizing that there is a gag in her mouth and manacles on her wrists and ankles.

 

She takes in her surroundings and her eyes connect with Yasha’s violet and green eyes. Relief flood through her as she sees the faded bruising and she recalls the beatings that the older woman has taken since they were captured.Her eyes move to the now moving form of Fjord, his shirt is torn from where the two daggers buried themselves when they arrived to this area. Jester breathes a little easier upon realizing that he has been healed as well. 

 

Jester moves slowly to huddle next to Yasha and she is unable to contain the wince as she moves her recently healed arm. Fjord drags himself over to the two members of the Mighty Nein and rests on the opposite side of Yasha. The blue tiefling notices the looks of loss that a engraved on Yasha’s and Fjord’s faces and briefly wonders if her grief is as noticeable.

 

Moments pass before muffled screams fill the air and Jester is unable to contain a shiver that runs through her body. Several minutes later there is a sound of a door opening and heavy footfalls. Slavers stand just on the other side of the cell door.

 

“Grab the blue one. We got two weeks to get ‘em ready for the market,” the bald slaver says just as the slavers open the cell door. Jester tenses understanding that these people were about to unleash whatever horrors that they are capable of on her.

 

‘ _Traveler, please..._ ,” Jester pleads internally with her deity. Just as she finishes her thoughts Fjord and Yasha place themselves in between her and the slavers. The bald leaders stand away from the cell as his two subordinates open the cell door and storm inside. The first slaver is met with a sweeping kick from Fjord. Before the slaver is knocked to his feet Yasha is charging towards the other in a rage. The barbarian drives her shoulder into the slaver and he falls breathless with the barbarian on top of him.

 

With newfound courage Jester watches as Fjord struggles to hold the slaver in the cell down. Jester drags herself over to the pair before bringing her manacles wrists down on the slaver’s face. Once. Twice. The slaver stills and Jester looks up to watch Yasha deliver a brutal headbutt to the slaver beneath her before charging at Lorenzo. The leader lifts his hand and a icy blast comes forth from the open palm. The cleric sees Yasha take a full hit before the blast hits both the slavers and herself and Fjord.

Jester can only think of the bone chilling cold as she withers on the floor. Once she is finally able to shake the pain and cold, she looks to see Lorenzo wiping blood and spit from his face before he knees the kneeling barbarian in the stomach. The black and white haired woman collapses as she struggles to gain her breath.

 

“Close that fucking cell. Looks like we have a volunteer,” the leader barks the order out as he pulls the barbarian to her feet with a white knuckled grip on Yasha’s throat. The slaver that Jester and Fjord attacked gets to his feet. On his way to the cell door he delivers several kicks to the Jester and Fjord’s chests before slamming the cell door closed. Jester brings her manacled hands to the pain flaring through her chest. Fearfully, she watches as Yasha is dragged out of sight.

 

‘ _Hey, Traveler. I know you can hear me and I’m just asking to keep us safe. I can’t wait to draw for you again and I’m going to draw so many dicks over this place_ ,’ Jester’s hopes swell as she hears the faint laughing of the Traveler. With the pain in her chest subsiding, the cleric drags herself to the side of the cell. Shortly after, Fjord props himself up next to her and they share a worried look.

 

Just as Jester begins thinking about what pranks she would do to please the Traveler she is broken out of her trance. There is a muffled yell that echoes off the stone walls followed by the distinct smells of burning flesh. Jester’s heart drops to her stomach realizing that these sounds and smells are closer then the screams from earlier. The same terrible things happening to Yasha right now were supposed to be happening to her.

 

 

The muffled groans and cries of pain continue over what feels like hours and are punctuated with the smells of burned flesh. Every now and then Jester can hear the slaver talking faintly. The sounds of flesh hitting flesh suddenly replace the pained moans and cries briefly before the smell of burning skin is combined with faint yelling again.

 

Footfalls fills reverberate off the stone walls and Jester and Fjord stare at the cell door. Both ready to defend the other from whatever is about to happen. The footsteps stop and they watch as the bald slaver stands just outside their cell. Jester glares at him and can faintly see blood on his hands and drops littering the armor on his chest.

 

“Don’t worry I’ll get to you two soon enough,” Lorenzo says as he looks at Fjord and Jester’s faces. With a sickening grin the slaver turns and heads away from them and Yasha. The sound of a door closing turns the pair’s concern from each other to the condition of their quiet barbarian friend.

 

Their sullen thoughts are replaced as the sound of metal scrapping on stone fills the air. A yell unlike the yells of an attacking Yasha fills the air. The same voice yells again and Jester can hear another unfamiliar sound - the sound of Yasha crying out in pain. Jester closes her eyes as the sounds of flesh hitting flesh echos off the stone walls. She feels sick upon realizing that Yasha is no longer crying out in pain. The sounds of the vicious beating continues and Jester barely feels Fjords hands on her attempting to comfort her as tears gather at the corners of her eyes.

 

The cell door slams open and an imposing woman stands in the doorway. Fjord moves to protect Jester from the woman but a brick of a fist slams into Fjord’s jaw. As the half-orc falls to the floor like a sack of potatoes the woman steps past the fallen sorcerer grabbing the chain connecting manacles on Jester’s wrists. A strong pull forces Jester to her feet and drags her out of the cell. Metal on metal fills the chamber as the woman closes the cell door. Fear stiffens Jester’s muscles as she is forced to the area that Yasha was taken to not long ago.

 

The cleric notices several things upon entry into the open chamber. Two lit braziers stand on the far wall both emitting a heat that makes the room more uncomfortable that it already is. Two pilliars stand offset from the center of the room which is occupied with a table. Upon quick inspection she notices the manacles on each of the corners of the table. The light from the braziers causes a sheen on the table that Jester can’t figure out what. She spots blood on the floor which pulls her attention from everything else in the room.

 

Her eyes jump from each spot of blood until it lands on a pool of blood with a set of pale feet in it. If it were not for the gag Jester would have cried out as her eyes rose from the pale feet to see the battered body of Yasha. The barbarian is held in place by a familiar blade that clearly went all the way through her right shoulder and into the stone wall if the splash of blood on the wall is any indicator. Jester feels the built up tear finally streaming down her face as she takes in the closed eyes, unmoving chest, and noticeably paler than average skin of her friend.

 

“Heal her,” the woman’s gravelly voice forces Jester to look away from the unconscious form as the woman pulls the gag from Jeser’s mouth, “any other magic and I’ll rip the half-orc to shreds and feed him to you”. The human woman’s hand on her shoulder is heavy and keeps Jester in place as the manacles are removed from her wrists. The house of a woman moves towards the unconscious barbarian and with a low grunt she yanks the sword from both the wall and Yasha’s shoulder. The black and white haired woman falls to the floor like a marionette with its stings cut.

 

Jester runs to the fallen woman quickly taking in the worst of her injuries and triaging them. A slash from left shoulder to right hip with the white of bone visible where it nicked ribs and sternum. The through and through stab wound to her right shoulder trickles out blood which meets with a more serious wound. Low to the pale woman’s right side is a large wound almost to the middle of the barbarian - Jester can only guess the slaver was hoping to cut the woman in two but stopped short.

 

“Traveler, I need your help or Yasha, -” Jester mutters under her breath and can’t bring herself to finish her sentence. Jester begins working on these three near fatal wounds with her healing magic. As her hands glow a low white light she takes in the rest of the woman. Her grey armor turned a sickening color as it is now coated in the woman’s blood. She can see burned skin on her shoulders and through the holes in the woman’s left hip, thigh, and side. Jester breathes a sigh of relief as three wounds seal close and remain scarred as if healed months ago.

 

The woman under her wheezes as her lungs suck in a breath of air. Jester looks to the woman’s face to see any indication of her waking up. The barbarian’s face is heavily bruised and her right eye is swollen shut. The blue tiefling eyes begin to search for the next injury to heal and falls to a horrible burn on the woman’s left forearm. After staring at it in for a moment longer she notices its not a burn but a brand. The skin is red and raised in the image of crossed Shepherd’s crooks with a set of manacles handing from each crook. Jester reaches out to the burn and get frustrated when her hands fail to light up.

 

‘ _That can’t be all of it_ ,’ Jester thinks briefly to herself. A heavy hand grabs Jester by her horn before Jester feels herself flying through the air. Jester cries out as her side impacts with the table in the center of the room. Pressing a hand to her ribs Jester looks to the human woman and Yasha. The slaver grabs Yasha by her wrist and drags her to a cell next to one of the braziers. Her barbarian friend’s eyes remain closed as she is chained on the far end of the cell.

 

The human glaring at the chained up barbarian. The human backhands Yasha before storming out of the cell. Jester can barely move as the slaver approaches her and places the manacles back on her wrists. As she is pushed into the cell with a stirring Fjord, Jester only prays that she didn’t just doom Yasha to face the same barbaric treatment that required Jester to bring her back from the brink.

 

————————————

 

‘ _Thanks, Traveler, for helping me heal Yasha. Could you keep an eye out on her_ ,’Jester thinks just as the sound of a door slamming and footsteps breaks her focus. Pain shoots up her ribs as she moves toblock Fjord from any potential attack. Four slavers stand outside the cell and the cleric catches a brief glimpse of the bald leader walking to where Jester healed Yasha last night. The four slavers enter the cell, harsh punches subdue the two member of the Mighty Nein and drag them out of the cell.

 

The chamber is as Jester remembers it dark spots on the stone showing where someone attempted to clean the spots of blood away with little luck. Her eyes fall on Yasha’s kneeling form. The barbarian’s arms are above her head and her wrists are chained to rings high up on the pillars in the room. As the slavers force Jester and Fjord to their knees, Yasha’s lowered head raises. The bruising on her face is a rainbow of colors, her right eye swollen shut, and fresh blood seeping from her clearly broken nose.

 

Looking around Jester remembers several of the slavers around the cell from the ambush but she does note that the human woman from last night is absent. The leader stands next to Yasha with his glaive. Jester notices Fjord shocked reaction to seeing their friend in her state. Without warning the center of shoulder blades erupts in a painful burning. In her attempt to see what caused the pain she sees a slaver placing a white hot metal to Fjord’s upper arm. The cleric recalls the brand she found on Yasha and knows the slavers just marked their property.

 

“Pick one,” Lorenzo growls at Jester leveling the point of the glaive in between her eyes. The slavers work their way around the chamber and remove the gags from the members of the Mighty Nein. 

 

“For what,” Fjord asks and is answered with a kick to his side. Yasha simply glares at the bald leader.

 

Panic fills Jester as she realizes that whoever she picks will be beaten and bloodied. Yasha already sacrificed herself for Jester once. Jester gives a quick prayer to the Traveler and her faith braces her for what she is about to say.

 

“Me! Me,” Jester shouts to the leader and a grin breaks across his face. The cleric begins shaking as the slaver approaches her glaive aimed to cut her down if she makes a move. He grabs her by the chin - forcing her to look into his eyes, “I was hoping you would say that.”

 

He grabs one of her horns with his free hand and turns her face towards Fjord. She watches in horror as one of the slavers punches Fjord in the face. Once. Twice. The third punch sends him sprawling to the ground. ‘ _Traveler, please stop them_ ,’ Jester thinks as she watches them kick the now prone half-orc eliciting grunts of pain from him. Chains rattling signals that Yasha is attempting to break free from her bonds at the sight. Fjord falls silent and still and the slavers look back to Lorenzo. The two men nod before dragging the unconscious half -orc out of the chamber.

 

A pull on her horns forces her to watch as a halfling and human yank on the chains connecting Yasha’s manacles to the pillars. Several more pulls forces Yasha to a standing position. Anotherfew pulls and the barbarian has to stand on her toes or risk hanging by her wrists. The hands on her horns are removed and Jester feels her own chained wrists being pulled towards the table. After securing Jester to one corner of the table where she will be able to get a full view of Yasha, Lorenzo walks to another table behind Yasha.

 

Jester looks on as a large hook - more likely to be found in a butcher shop- buries itself into Yasha’s side. She bites her lip to stop from crying out as the hook is yanked out - blood freely flowing from the wound. A heated blade is placed on the wound andJester is amazed that Yasha is not crying out. The cracking of a whip reverberates off the stone walls followed quickly by the barbarian recoiling away from the pain. Jester sees the bald leader bringing his arm back with the whip in hand. Another blow but still the barbarian makes no noises.

 

An iron like stare from Yasha makes Jester realize that the barbarian is protecting Jester again. She is unwilling to let the slavers hear her cry out as well as saving Jester from hearing her pain.Jester steels herself and looks on refusing to show that the sights she is witnessing is breaking her.

 

The cracking of the whip is interrupted with the sound of the hooks embedding themselves into the barbarian as well as the sickening sounds of them being pulled out forcefully from her skin. Jester watches numbly as her pale friend is brutalized. Several minutes later, Lorenzo makes his way back to the tiefling.

 

“Take her back to the cell,” he growls upon realizing his goal of breaking both of the women is no where close to being achieved. Jester comes out of her near trance as she is pulled back to the cell with Fjord. She finds herself starting to pray to the Traveler but stops. ‘ _This has to be a trick of the Traveler_ ,’ she thinks before moving to be closer to the still unconscious Fjord. The sounds of the whip cracking and striking Yasha’s body continues for nearly an hour.

 

Suddenly the door slams open and a slaver runs to the chamber. Jester can pick up bit and pieces but not enough to actually understand what is being said. The slaver runs back out of the chamber before the sounds of a cell door opening and closing is heard. The bald slaver appears at their cell door with a grin on his face, “Looks like I get to kill more of your friends. Ruzza, you know what to do.”

 

A half-elf enters the cell and with muttered words and a touch to the manacles Jester eyelids begin to droop and then darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing Jester is sort of difficult especially trying to write her have a crisis of faith. Also I know the regaining of spells is not like what is in this chapter, but it works for the story.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter and as always feel free to drop a comment if you notice anything or just want to give me a shout. 
> 
> I’m working on the next chapter and have all the notes I need for it but probably won’t get it finished anytime in the next two weeks due to starting work again.

**Author's Note:**

> Please provide feedback and hope you all enjoyed this first chapter


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